International Travel

Amtrak's Coast Starlight offers the best way to view the west coast

When traveling by train you take the good (views) with the bad (views).

And so it was on Amtrak’s Coast Starlight from Seattle to Los Angeles and back mid-February.

I enjoyed jaw-dropping vistas of the Pacific Ocean off the southern coast of California, the spray from the surf backlit by the sun as well as miles of nut trees planted neatly like so many crosses in a cemetery.

Farmland, northern California.

One night I awoke thinking I had somehow accidentally knocked the nightlight on in my sleep (a physically impossible task from a prone position I knew even in my groggy state but I was hard-pressed to immediately determine what the source of light was in the middle of the night.)

Surprised and delighted — and wide awake now, as we were also high up in the mountains and I realized I was also freezing cold — I quickly registered it was the moon.

There, up in the sky (and luckily on MY side of the train too!) — a huge, brilliantly perfect orb surrounded by the million points of light city-dwellers like myself rarely get to see.

And, as I learned later it was not just a full moon but a Full Snow Moon.

Now, I don’t know for sure if adding adjectives makes a moon bigger or brighter, but it was definitely so against the almost cloudless night sky.

I also noted we were not moving, creating a most stunning tableau right outside my window: miles and piles of untouched snow blanketing tall evergreens, those in turn casting long indigo shadows over rolling mounds of soft whiteness on the ground.

It was a glorious moment in that quiet and stillness (of which trains are most definitely neither when running) and I truly hoped maybe someone somewhere else on the train was awake to experience this magical moment as well.

One view not in the guidebooks I’m sure, was of the two mountain bikers somewhere in Oregon — bent over, laughing hysterically, their fingers pointing to their wagging derrieres while mooning the train as it passed.

Unfortunately for me I had just put my camera down and missed the shot so I decided to affix my camera to my window using medical tape guaranteeing I’d be quicker on the draw next time.

Trains typically travel through cities in their oldest and most run-down sections and in your bigger cities — Portland, Seattle and certainly LA — you will see many tents and tent cities sprung up beside the rail lines, occasionally butted up against tall concrete walls ironically separating beautiful condo and hotel developments on the other side.

It’s a sad and troubling contrast yet a seeming-unsolvable state of affairs every major city struggles with.

As I unpacked my things into my roughly 24 square feet of allotted train for the next 36 hours of my life I tried to stay organized.

Sleeping car roomettes are compact. In my new digs I was able to locate a few pull-out hooks, great for bags and backpacks and a little closet complete with three hangers, large enough to store coats and any other bulky items.

Everything else too is on a miniature scale, a narrow table that unfolds, another weearea that acts as a bedside table —the whole set-up reminded me of a Japanese Bento Box, everything so neat and orderly with a place for everything, as long as it’s tiny.

By day you can choose to sit comfortably in your room with the seats up (civilized!) or keep the chairs down with your bedroll on top and watch the beautiful scenery roll by comfortably horizontal (lazy and preferred by me!)

I meet my affable neighbours Jeff and his husband Doug from Seattle. Upon learning Jeff is an engineer for BNSF, the largest freight railway network in North America, I promise not to pepper him with too many train-related questions, at the same time concerned for his husband Doug, who at 6’6” (“American,” Jeff joked) made me wonder if Jeff might not have to resort to folding Doug origami-style to fit into his lower bunk.

Doug Miner and Jeff Tozzer from Seattle, Washington.

Meals, which are included for sleeping car passengers and served in the dining car are hot, filling, generously portioned and quickly served.

One day for lunch I ordered the surprising delicious, PEI mussels from our Canadian east coast while I dined on a train on America’s west coast.

Tables are set up to seat four and referred to as “community seating” which means whether you are traveling alone, or with others, you will be seated at a table until that table fills up.

Turns out it’s a great way to meet some really nice people! Take my new pal Herb from Victorville, California.

Upon finding out I was a Canadian, he mentioned he “thought he heard something” in my accent.

I always call shenaniganson this particular canard, but that didn’t stop us from barking “about” to each other more than a few times just so I could prove I most certainly did NOT pronounce it “aboot”.

That we were sitting across from a quiet Amish couple from Wisconsin just added to the unusual milieu.

As they bowed their heads to pray when our meals were served, Herb and I awkwardly busied ourselves fussing with our cutlery and napkins until they were finished.

California coastline.

One of Amtrak’s consistent passenger issues involves train delays, which can be both frequent and potentially lengthy and the struggle proved real as various stoppages on the way down led to a cumulative four-hour delay arriving in Los Angeles.

One long stop was billed as: “Troubles with the PTC”, which I learned stands for “Positive Train Control”: a system in place explained thusly: “So we don’t hit other trains”, which sounds like a Pretty Terrific Concept if you ask me.

Traveling by train is slow travel – it’s the journey not the destination that matters. You will be blown away by the changing views outside your window and rocked gently to sleep at night.

The writer was a guest of Amtrak. No one from Amtrak reviewed this article before publication.